


A Rift at Home

by Garcia



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Awkwardness, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Morty is a bit of jerk, Swearing, The aftermath of the family finding out, the rest of the family too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-03-02 19:59:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18817957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garcia/pseuds/Garcia
Summary: Rick and Morty's relationship was discovered by the rest of the family. Despite the huge fallout, they find comfort in being together alone and create a home just for them and their weird ways. When Beth finds Morty after five years of silence and suggests to gather for a family dinner, old scars and disagreements come out to the light.





	1. The First Dinner

The silence is suffocatingly thick.

Morty stabs a small piece of his meatball with a fork and brings it to his lips. The food tastes like ash on his tongue and he feels his face twist into a grimace but he keeps chewing. He smooths out his expression and ignores the too loud scrapes of cutlery in their dining room.

“H-hey, sport!” Jerry says and Morty’s stomach almost jumps out of his body. The little chewed up bite slides down his throat and he breaks out in coughs.

He feels Rick’s palm hitting his back and the offending piece of food finally dislodges its place in his throat.

“F-forgot how to eat, Morty?” Rick’s voice is gruff, heavy.

A slight flush travels down his body – maybe they should open a window – and he hopes it doesn’t travel to his face.

The faces of his family seated before him swim and he looks at his squishy meatball, plastic-like boiled potatoes on the side. The whole thing looks like it was molded from ash and he swallows, feels as his abused throat moves and ignores the rising cough. It feels like it settles in his stomach, deciding to churn there and pressure the single lonesome bite to come back its way up.

“I’m f-fine, thanks.”

Rick’s hand lingers, just a moment, like a caress, a moment of comradeship, us against the world, and falls away to pick at the food with his fork again. It doesn’t look like anyone ate anything at all the pass half an hour they were sitting here. What would he give to be in bed right now, Rick and Morty, one hundred years, alone, and Rick’s displeased face floats in his mind, as if mocking. Reminding.

“ _Why the fuck should I have to s-sit with them? Y-You know what, enlighten me, Morty, why are we even considering inviting them over. They never bothered to contact you in years, Morty, and suddenly you’re all lovey-dovey–“_

“ _We’re not–“_

“ _Let me tell you, M-Morty, this is just going to be self-inflicted torture that me, that no-one out of all of us wants in the name of acting nice to go with the standards of society so they can pat themselves on the back for_ trying _and then go b-back to their gossiping and slandering ways with a cheerful little laugh to tie it all in and little sprinkling Christmas cards on Christmas like it excuses them from ever meeting up with us ever again unless we’re rotting in the cold earth and there’s an opportunity to get –“_

“ _Rick!”_ _his voice breaks in the middle_ _and Rick throws up his hands, his hands just as expressive in portraying his displeasure as the deep ridge in his brow._

“ _You-you know what, Morty? F-Fine, invite them over. But don’t expect me not to say ‘I told you so’ when it’s over.”_

Despite the overall sense of exhaustion and ire at that time, he had also felt hopeful, like a little flutter in his spine and he must’ve looked ridiculous. He tries not to cringe at his past self and tries to steel himself for Rick’s ribbing the moment they’re alone.

He looks at Beth and Summer’s blank faces and shrivels in his chair. The silence is grating on his nerves and he feels like screaming or running away or shoving them all out of their home. A slight sigh slithers past his lips – it will have to be enough.

“What did you mean to say, D-Dad?” he asks. It as good an excuse as any to not eat anymore.

“Oh well, you know...” he trails off and his eyes seek out Beth and Summer, like a little fly, flickering between the two bodies.

“How’s it been with college, sw-swe–“ Beth clears her throat, almost like the word has lodged its way in her throat and he swallows in sympathy. Jerry seems grateful and Summer finally lifts her own eyes. The stares feel like needles sticking to his skin and he clears his throat. At least he knows where the toilet is if he decides to puck everything out.

“F-Fine, Mom, everything has been fine. I’m… I’m quite enjoying my studies and whenever I don’t understand anything I ask Rick–“ A momentary grimace flashes through Beth’s face and his lungs lack the air to finish the sentence. It remains unfinished and no-one urges him on.

He clutches at his stomach. “It’s fine.”

“That’s great,” The lack of ‘sweetie’ at the end gains its own essence in the silence, louder than it could ever be if spoken.

“How about you, Mom? How have you all been?” his voice sounds annoying to his own ears, but even that is better than that damned silence and the scrap of forks. No-one’s eating anymore and he can see Rick openly drinking from his flask, giving up all pretense at looking interested. It’s a miracle he hadn’t already left and his heart swells with gratefulness.

“We’ve been fine, really. Jerry has found a job a few years ago,” a pang travels through his heart. A few years? It’s old news but it’s the first time he’s hearing it. Rick’s expression betrays nothing but Morty doesn’t think he knew either, “and Summer has finally finished her uni. Haven’t you, sweetie?”

His stomach churns harder and maybe they should wrap it up.

His sister nods her head, her ponytail swaying with the motion. “University was really wild, I got to see and try all this lit shit, Morty, you should’ve seen it. I bet you’d have loved it there, it’s a shame you couldn’t...” The whole room winces and, god, it couldn’t get any more awkward, could it, “come.”

“Y-yeah,” he starts and his mind is blank. A little drop of sweat rolls down his back. “You-you know how it was, with me and… Rick and, like, having to move out and all the fights. Umm… I couldn’t have really... entered by that point, you know, I missed the deadline and it really wasn’t at my, wasn’t a top priority at the moment… But I totally would’ve, umm, joined. If I could.”

“It’s a nice little place you have here.” Beth says and her eyes drift to a painting of a Shmuffle on the wall.

It’s a painting of a blue bob-like creature in the middle of orgasming with trees and flowers in the background, giving the creature a distinct pink blush. The blob itself is pretty stock still despite the activities portrayed and at least Beth doesn’t know what an orgasming Shmuffle looks like. It was Rick’s chosen painting, too, probably just to annoy him when Morty said their space lacked style when they moved in. He could see a dark smirk playing on Rick’s lips out of the corner of his eye and he tries not to blush as all eyes turn to look at the art. Despite the flush he feels creeping up his face, he can’t help but feel… displaced, like a giant riff has opened in the middle of the room, between him and Rick and the rest of the family. Like they don't belong in the same dimension, and the painting, which before emitted so many small snickers from Rick, as if he was clever in any way, left a bad taste on his tongue and failed to look as vibrant as before. The colors were flat and the Smuffle's beady four eyes devoid of any and all emotions. A shiver ran down his back.

“It’s a true piece of art, Beth.” Rick says and slurps from his flask, his voice sounding annoyingly smug.

“Speaking of the flat, let me show you to your room!” He mentally pats himself on the back and stands up, the chair screeching as it slides back abruptly. It wobbles a bit but thankful doesn’t fall over. “Just leave the dishes here and I’ll clean it up. It’s pretty late, you must be exhausted.”

His parents and Summer stand up just as eagerly and follow him down the hall. Maybe he should really give the toilet a visit, just in case.

* * *

 

Bubbles pop and slid over the dish as he rubs a particularly stubborn piece of something off the plate. He feels a headache starting to develop behind his eyes and curses his soapy hands as he can’t rub his eyes.

Rick slides up next to him and leans against the counter. His flask is nowhere to be seen but he holds a mug of coffee in his hand. Morty can’t smell anything suspicious from the coffee but he’s not close enough to smell the stink of it on Rick’s breath either. He continues to scrub at the plate as Rick slurps next to him, but something seems to release inside of him, a tension he didn’t know he was carrying disappearing.

“You don’t need to say ‘I told you so’” his voice sounds lighter than it had all evening and Rick snorts next to him.

“I told you so.” He takes a big gulp of his coffee. “It’s the principle of the thing, Morty. No-one likes to hear it but, dude, is it nice to rub it in.”

A laugh passes his lips and Rick smiles.

“Dawg, epic proportions of awkward. You couldn’t even say that I was helping you with homework and you invited them to stay the night?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He rolls his eyes. “But maybe… maybe it will be fine, Rick?” He glances at his grandpa but the man stares straight ahead. “They know everything. Everything about us, I mean. So it’s not like we’ll have to hide or anything, not like before.”

Silence follows and he goes back to scrubbing. “It’s why we left. I left. I made my choices but… maybe they’re ready to accept them for what they are, you know.”

Rick doesn’t say anything and with a final gulp out of the mug leaves it on the counter. “I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”

Morty exhales more heavily than usual and pretends he won’t have to endure the same tomorrow.

 


	2. The Evening After

He falls down on his bed, the soft mattress cushioning his flop on his belly, and with a sigh he rolls to lie on his back. Exhaustion bites at his muscles even though all he experienced was an awkward dinner with his family where a distinct tension locked up his limbs and breath every few moments. The dinner they had takes up an uncomfortable place in his mind, always at the front of his thoughts. It’s unfair, that even though he left the table and the dishes are sparkling on the drying rack, he can almost feel the wall separating him and the rest of the family pulse with every single minuscule sound.

He turns on his side, still sprawled out because at least in bed he should feel comfortable, goddammit, and Rick’s form enters his field of vision. He’s sitting in his rotating chair next to the table, which has been littered with tiny unfinished devices, wires and old tools from the moment they moved here even though he has his own workshop. Rick’s feet are crossed and propped on the bed and his head is tilted back, gaze searching something on the ceiling and face lax, bored. Slender arms are loose and hang over the armrests and Morty’s eyes trace the forearms to the wrists to the delicate fingers. Fingers that can stroke, twist, break and destroy, but now hang relaxed, and he swallows against the dryness of his mouth.

When he lifts his eyes, Rick is looking straight at him with a smirk on his lips, eyes light and mischievous, yet cloudy, a bit unfocused. It might be from the alcohol he ingested without a second thought at the dinner table. Rick hasn’t be drinking as much as he had in the past and sometimes it’s nice to think, to try and believe that it’s because of him. Some days he believes it, some not. Either way, he might not be so great at holding massive amounts of hard liquor as before.

The chair creaks and Rick stands up. He walks the few steps to the bed and leans over him in one smooth movement, forcing Morty to lie on his back. His elbows barricade Morty’s head in-between as he leans on them. Morty feels Rick’s long legs on either side of him and his heart starts a heavy beat, desperate to be heard.

Dilated pupils lock him in place and the sound of his own heavy breathing seems to resonate in the room. He swallows again, a flicker of fire settles in his abdomen, and he grabs a fistful of Rick’s shirt – the same blue-green but the white lab coat already discarded somewhere – and drags him down. Lips crash against his clumsily, teeth clanking together, and he can feel a gust of air tickle his lips as Rick is forced to exhale and inhale in one sudden movement.

Rick’s lips move to slot against his into a much more comfortable position and Morty tries not to let the smirk he can feel growing on his lips break the kiss. No matter how hard he tries to focus on the rough texture his smile grows and Rick huffs above him. He can feel a tugging on his clutching hand when Rick tries to lift himself up a bit and he releases his hold.

“Feeling impatient, Morty?” Rick’s voice is husky with a promise to get his way eventually and a shiver passes down his back.

“I don’t- don’t have all day, old man.”

A snort passes Rick’s lips. “That’s all you got, Morty?”

He leans down then, his lips trailing down his cheek to his neck and Morty offers the skin to him. Lips caress and nip and electric-like shivers are born in his spine. A wet tongue trails up, fat, slick and warm, and travels up to his earlobe. Lips suck at the little piece of skin and Morty feels like his ear is straightly connected to his dick, because it strains against his pants, and Morty clings at Rick’s sides. Teeth bite down, a hand suddenly rubs at his crotch and, oh god, his nerves are on fire. A moan is ripped from his throat and he tries to swallow the sound down.

“Morty, Morty...” a sigh tickles at the wet skin on his ear and he shudders. “Morty… you know Grandpa Rick likes to hear you.”

His eyes flutter close and Rick’s voice whispers against his ear, vibrating within him.  
“So, Morty, you gonna be a good boy,” Rick’s palm slides up and down over his clad dick, “and let me hear you?”

It’s not much, they’re both still fully clothed for god’s sake, but he feels ready to cum in his pants. He relaxes against the bed, a puddle in Rick’s hands, and he knows, he _knows_ the next time Rick’s palm presses against his jeans… Lips kiss his nape again and–

A bump sounds from the wall and a moan gets caught in his throat. His eyes fly to look at the innocuous bland gray of their wallpaper and a different kind of tension presses against his stomach. Lips continue to kiss up his neck and a tongue traces the ridges of his ear and any other time it would’ve made him pant and strain against Rick, pull and push at his clothes just to get closer to the fire-hot skin, but now his voice seems to have disappeared. What if they heard?

An image of his parents sitting on the guest bed, frozen still in shock and faces twisted into grimaces, a bit green around the edges, and Morty can’t… Their disgust as they hear how Grandpa Rick, Beth’s father, Jerry’s in-law, pounds into his grandson makes his stomach churn and–

A sigh flutters against his glistering skin and Rick rolls away from him, the areas where they touched exposed to the cold air. Morty’s dick is limp.

“Forget it.” A burp follows Rick’s words and he leans away. He crawls over the bed and staggers to a standing position on his not-so-steady legs.

Morty’s eyes are glued to his retreating from and hands that twist the knob and open the door. The sound, gentle, not betraying a single emotion, as the door is closed resonates in the room and Morty fails to muster up the energy to move from the place he’s lying on.

A deep sigh rises from the very core of him and he suddenly feels so tired and heavy, as if a hundred mattresses were stacked on top of him, and yet his stomach continues to churn and his thoughts are plagued by the afterimage of his imagined parents’ faces.

* * *

He blinks open, the familiar view of their – _Rick and Morty’_ _s_ – room swims into focus. He’s lying on his side, facing the wall and in the position he always is when going to sleep, but despite the tiredness he feels charged up, jittery, and his muscles feel stretched and tensed. He could scale a mountain or run a marathon in a sprint if only he had the energy to rise from bed.

His gaze catches on the few photos they have hanging on the wall. Their faces are glowing and smiles are huge and they look like they’re having a blast. In one of them there are a few scratches and dried smears of blood on their faces and it must have been just after they destroyed an intergalactic slave company after wreaking their main base and setting fire to the owner’s collection of cat-styled sex costumes, a whole room dedicated to them. An alien that tagged along with them took the photo and somehow managed to find Rick after a week or so and give it to them. The moment he had seen it, he decided he had to have it on the wall to the side of his bed and he had thought a million and one arguments and plans to get his way and he was surprised when Rick just shrugged and said ‘whatever’.

Yet now, when he looks at it and their wide grins, the spot next to his back feels ice cold and miles wide, stretching to eternity.

The dinner, the freaking god awful dinner they had ended pretty early all things considered and he wouldn’t fall asleep, so with another deep sigh he commands his weary hands to push him up. When he’s sitting up, he can see the room is darker than he thought and he must’ve lied there for quite a while.

After another few deep breaths he moves his legs just as slowly as his hands had and staggers to his feet. He walks to the door, the silence pressing on him from all sides, and the image of Rick walking just like him flashes before his mind.

He turns the doorknob, enters their living room and his hand falls from the door without closing it, without sealing it from all prying eyes. His heart thuds and he continues his shuffle to the kitchen.

Was Rick upset? He must’ve went off to his workshop. He should find him and kiss him again. Would he taste an even stronger form of liquor on his–

“Morty!”

His head snaps up and he blinks at Beth standing in the kitchen. She has a glass in her hands, red wine again, and he feels his lips curling – no, wait, that’s grape juice. They don’t have any wine and he doubts even Beth would fall down to the level of bringing wine with her secretly stashed in her luggage for later consumption.

He feels heat coloring his cheeks again and rubs at his neck, trying to dispel the heat.

“H-Hey, Mom. What are you d-doing here?” He walks to the other side of the table they had dinner together and reaches the fridge.

He opens it and cool air hits his heated face. He’s glad the door of the fridge hid his face from her and he pushes his head further in. He looks at their assembly of food and his stomach churns uneasily.

“Oh, just, you know, grabbing a glass of juice. It’s sweet.”

“Yeah, it’s the, umm,” he looks at the carton of juice on their fridge and reads the name aloud. “They make great stuff. Rick often says it’s too sweet for him but I just can’t find anything like them. S-Sure great juice!” Oh god, what was he even talking about?

“Yup, great!” Beth says and he hears a clink as the glass is placed on the counter.

The fridge begins to beep its warning and he slams it closed. He feels the blush returning and he studies the one magnet in the shape of a plumbus on it. Who knew there was a small scratch on the side?

“Well, I’ll just go now.” Beth says and starts walking out.

“S-Sure, sure! Just let me know if you-you need anything!” he calls to her retreating back and follows her form until she vanishes in the guest room.

He lets his head fall against the cool door of the fridge with a soft thunk. God, why couldn’t he act normal, for god’s sake.

* * *

“H-h-hey, Rick.” His voice stutters and he closes the door behind himself, leaning against it.

Rick’s unwavering back remains the only part of the man he can see seated next to the desk and he tries not to sigh. A flutter of air does leave through his nose.

His legs feel steady, too steady, as he walks over to Rick’s desk and leans his hip against it. He can see part of Rick’s face now and the weird way shadows fall on it make it look like his eyes have sunk in and the frowns around his lips valley-deep.

“Rick...”

The man sighs and leans back, the chair creaking as it has to balance Rick’s weight from a different angle. “Morty.”

Silence follows and Morty tries not to let his eyes fall to the ground. His stomach quivers as he holds his gaze on Rick’s narrowed eyes and feels like he could drown in them. Time stretches, moves and bends until it loses its meaning and reform again as Rick blinks.

The courage born from stubbornness trickles out and he looks at his feet. He has one sock inside-out on and he flexes his toes.

Rick’s chair creaks again.

“It’s…” He laughs but the sound feels flat, empty. “I want to say it’s fine, but–“

“I know,” Morty says and looks at Rick again, “It’s just…”

“You froze.” Rick turns back to his work. “You couldn’t bear the thought of Daddy and Mommy hearing–“

“No–“

“–of some regular plain vanilla make-out then maybe you shouldn’t have –“

“Rick –“

“ –left the house to begin with. You should’ve just stayed with Beth and Shitface and entered the boring ass university you barely could scrape by to enter and–“

“Rick!” His voice bounces from the metal sheets of the room and he glares at Rick’s profile. “It-It’s not your place to make this choice for me.”

Rick swivels in his chair and his eyes are narrowed, intense and it only makes his blood boil. He can feel his muscles tensing and his hands falling to his sides.

“W-well, maybe I don’t want to have a limp dick in my bedroom when I’m fucking ready to sleep with them!”

“You always have a limp d-d-dick!”

“I’m old, you shithead!” Rick stands up from his chair and his finger pokes him harshly in the chest. “From someone the age of you, Morty, limp dick in bed while you have your neck practically licked clean should not be an issue.”

“It’s not!” He holds his position.

“Really, Morty, really? ‘Cause that’s not how it felt to me. Do-Did you really not think about your parents in the room next over? About what they must hear from the room of their fucking son.” Rick’s voice is harsh, deep and it cracks in the middle and Morty is left frozen where he stands.

“I...” his mouth automatically starts the sentence, but his mind is blank, and Rick’s gaze just sharpens that bit more. He feels like a mouse in a little corner, pray for a hawk above his head. He tries to start the sentence again, say _that’s bullshit_ , but it wouldn’t be true.

Rick crosses the workshop in a few of his long strides and the door is slammed closed as Rick leaves him alone in the metal-coated room. He feels deja-vu creeping up and his throat constricts and he feels as a doll with cut strings as he falls to sit in the chair Rick occupied just a moment ago.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, remember when I wrote I'll post the next chapter on Tuesday on 21st? When I uploaded the first chapter I was in a super rush and I knew I'll want to have the next chapter in exactly 7 days so I was like "What day is it today? Must be Tuesday." It was not Tuesday. As such, the next chapter should also be uploaded on the 27th, Monday.  
> Anyways, moving on to other topics, thank you everyone who left kudos and commented. Every single review left a huge grin on my face and it's fantastic, I love every single one of them.  
> Regarding this chapter, I stumbled upon the problem that nowhere is it released what the actual color of Rick and Morty's eyes are! As such, I avoided mentioning anything about them, jumping through small loops to get around it. Personally, I always envision that Morty has brown eyes and Rick blue, but what is the general assumption in the fandom?  
> As always, I'm super open to critique and comments. Comments are great. Did I mention that?


	3. Again at the Table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I know I had been late in updating and I fell out of my schedule, so a huge sorry to all who had been waiting! I had exams these two weeks and thank god it's all over now! As such, I'm back to updating. While I mainly try to post on Mondays, I feel like this chapter has been long overdue, so here it is! The next chapter should be on Monday as usual and it's almost done. Comments are my one true love!

He takes a few deep breaths, tries to center himself, regain his normal composure, whatever that was. The sound of his breathing is the only thing he can hear in the workshop and he tries to concentrate on it. Just for a few seconds…

A faint voice carries through the heavy walls and he feels irritation tickling at him. Deep breaths…

The same voice penetrates the walls and he lets himself sag. What was happening there?

With his body just as weary as before he stands up and walks to the door. He enters their hall and the door automatically closes behind him. A security for the workshop and whatever happens in it.

He can now discern the voice as Jerry’s but the words are too muffled for him to make out what he’s saying and his legs carry him forward, slowly, silently.

He stops as the kitchen enters his field of view. For now he’s in the shadows and he’s perfectly content to just observe.

“Jerry, what do you think you’re doing?” Beth’s voice is laced with tension. Frustration probably at Jerry again. He can’t say he missed it.

Jerry’s hands place a box on the table. “Well, I thought an old-fashioned board game could really bring the family all together. Some quality family time.”

“Jerry, I really think it’s not the time for-”

“Why not!” Summer’s voice carries and she finally walks forward enough for him to see her.

“Summer, you know-”

“I-I think,” he exits the shadows and smiles sheepishly as Beth jerks a bit, “Jerry m-might have a good idea. I –“

“That’s the spirit, sport!” Jerry interrupts and starts laying down the game and Morty’s smile feels like it has started twisting his face unnaturally so he lets it drop.

Beth sighs and sits down at the table. Summer soon joins her side.

“What about Dad?” Beth says.

Morty winces and rubs at his neck, “S-sure, I’ll just g-get him.” He has no idea how he could convince him to join them when he didn’t even want to do dinner, yet alone a night over. “Did any of you see where he went?”

Summer jerks her thumb down the hallway to the direction of their bedroom. “He stormed in there and basically shut the door to my face.”

“Is everything fine?” Beth asks and Morty cringes.

“E-everything is peachy!” his voice squeaks. “I-I’ll just call him over, wait a second.”

He feels their stares digging into his back as he walks over to the door. His hand freezes at the doorknob and refuses to listen to him.

He feels as his heartbeat quickens and energy floods his veins, as if he was standing in front of an army of hostile aliens rather than his own bedroom. But he knows it’s going to be good! Despite the awful dinner they had, this game could really bring them together. That was why he accepted the offer, wasn’t it? So they could try to reconcile? Maybe after this evening they could go back to at least a somewhat similar relationship as before and plan other outings together as a family, just as before. He… he missed them.

He still feels their gazes at his back and he knows he’s standing too long staring at their door like it’s the portal to hell but his stomach quivers. He takes a deep breath – concentrate – and opens the door.

The room is cast into gray shadows and as he closes the door behind his back the only sliver of light flickers out and he has to take a second for his eyes to adjust to the gray darkness.

He can see Rick lying on the bed, his arms behind his head. He looks relaxed, without a care in the world and he would’ve thought he was asleep if he didn’t know him so well. But now he can see how his forearms bulge in tension and the slight tightening of his pale lips.

“Rick...” He doesn’t know how to start the sentence and he doesn’t know if he should walk forward or run to the other side of the planet.

The sound of an exhale reaches his ears and Rick sits up. His hair is more disheveled than usual and all the times they lain there after sex flashes in his mind. The tension in the room, however, resembles nothing like the usual.

“What, Morty?” Rick’s voice falls flat and his head hangs loose.

“Well… Jerry wants to play a board game w-with all of us.”

“And why should I care about what Jerry wants?”

Morty rubs at his arms. “It-it would be g-great if you, umm, joined us. All family t-together, you know.”

Rick snorts and finally lifts his eyes to look at him. “You shitting me right now, Morty? How the fuck do you think this is a good idea?”

He can feel as his back becomes ramrod straight even as he wants to crawl away from the piercing eyes. “Well...”

“You didn’t th-think, that’s your problem, Morty. You didn’t think before inviting them and you remained stupid at the table and you–“

“I get it, I get it!”

“You don’t!” He jumps up from the bed and advances to stand right before him. “It will never work, Morty, you can’t just, just expect boring-ass people to accept that we’re in a, in an incestuous relationship just because you sit with them talking shit together.”

“And you don’t even try!” The accusation bursts from his lips and he can feel himself straining forward. “A-All I heard from you all this-this time was ‘this sucks’ and ‘that sucks’ and–“

“I’m not idiotic enough to expect anything from this, you fucktard!”

“Maybe you should!”

Silence falls and he can hear muffled voices from outside their bedroom. Rick’s breathing is harsh and his eyes look half-crazed.

A great need to clutch at him rises from inside and his arms move on their own accord to hang into Rick’s shirt. “Please...”

He can feel the sides moving under his palms and Rick’s hands come to rest on his. “Please, Rick, just… just this once. I want… I want to try, you know? I want to have what we had before. They’re my family.”

His hands feel warm, both from the shirt he’s clutching and the hands covering his. His stomach rolls and he resolutely stares at his hands. It’s so still that he can hear his own heavy heartbeat.

“Okay.”

He lifts his eyes. “Okay?”

“I definitely won’t try to become buddy-buddy with them but, okay, I’ll show you some expert play in whatever idiotic game Jerry chose.”

A laugh bursts from him. “Okay, I’ll look forward to wiping the floor with your ass, fossil.”

He turns to open the door when Rick catches his retreating hand. “But the… nothing will change, Morty.”

Morty shakes his head but doesn’t reply – it would just start the argument from the start again – and opens the door.

 

* * *

 

The game absolutely sucks and Morty looks at his cards. It’s hopeless. Rick’s face remains neutral, the kind of neutral when he knows he’s going to win. Like fuck he will.

They’re sitting in the kitchen again. He looks at Jerry’s frown, Beth’s slightly upturned lips and Summer’s hands, which rub the tokens besides herself from time to time. God, they’re easy to read. He knows Jerry’s about to lose and Beth and Summer think they’re winning, but it seems like they forgot they’re playing against Rick.

“Well, Morty?” Summer urges him on.

“St-stop smirking, Rick knows you have two 12s in your hand.” Summer drops her little smile and Morty tries not to smirk.

He rolls the dice. Two dots. Fucking hell… He moves his little blue fellow on the board forward and draws a card. If he’s going down, he’s taking Rick down with him. He discards his most valuable cards and Rick curses as he’s forced to take them into his hand. He loses another 2 tokens, though, and he only has three left.

“Little shit.” Rick’s displeased voice feels like heaven to his ears.

It’s Jerry’s turn and the man takes the dice. Here goes an eternity of him trying to ‘infuse luck’ into the dice and he rolls his eyes. The others make themselves comfortable, too.

“So, Morty, what are you planning to do after school?” Beth asks.

He waves with his cards and can see from the corner of his eye as Rick tracks the movement. “Probably follow Rick on his a-adventures, as always.”

“Obviously,” Rick adds and Beth frowns.

“Wh-what are your plans, Summer?” It would be best to redirect the conversation to them.

“Oh, I don’t know yet. I’m thinking of moving to New York.”

“What?” Beth says and Jerry’s eyes fly to look at her. Oh, for fuck’s sake, now Jerry’s starting his stupid ritual from the start again. “Why do you want to go to New York?”

“It’s fun.”

“But, sweetie, it’s so far away and expensive...”

“I’ll be fine, Mom.”

Rick snorts next to him. “Let her see something else besides this boring fucktown.”

Beth frowns.

“Ha-ah!” Jerry finally rolls his dice. It falls on one dot. At least someone’s luck is worse than his. Jerry moves his character one step forward. There’s a huge gap between him and all others. He looks at his cards and his eyes shine suspiciously. Beth takes another two tokens and Summer one and a single token remains besides him. He takes it and clutches at it, adoration shining in his eyes as he looks at it.

“Ugh,” Rick groans and Morty’s tempted to agree with him.

Beth takes the dice.

“But don’t you want to find a job, Morty?” Beth says.

“Why should he?” Rick says before Morty could say the same.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m doing great with Rick. We get money on our adventures, if you’re worried about that. You know Rick can make something if we’re short on it.”

“But Morty–“

“Roll the dice,” Rick interrupts her and Beth lets the dice go.

“But what about a family of your own, Morty?”

“Mom!” Summer glares at her and Rick tenses next to him.

“What?” Morty’s hand tightens on his cards.

“Well, don’t you want kids of your own?”

“Mom, I think that’s enough...“ Summer trails off.

His voice freezes in his throat and he can’t utter a single damned word. He feels absolutely frozen to the chair. Jerry and Summer have a frown on their faces but Beth is looking straight at him.

“Sweetie, you know you can always come back. We still have your room open, just like it was before… you left.”

His mouth feels dry and he aches, deep inside. He can’t look at her, so he focuses his gaze on his hands, still clutching the cards and creasing them beyond fixing. It had been nice, hadn’t it? To always know someone had his back, even Jerry, though he was more useless than anything else. The day he left was a painful imprint in his mind, the overwhelming anger he felt obscuring all else. Only after a few weeks could he feel the empty spaces where they should’ve been and then… then the hurt and loneliness came to take their place. The independence he and Rick had, to finally be set free from having to pretend all the time and the loneliness he felt were constantly at a clash, making him swing between ecstasy and despair so fast he almost got whiplash and felt like puking or laughing uncontrollably.

He could have that again. A flutter starts up in his stomach and were his hands shaking? He could come back, live with them all again until he graduated or even longer. Yes, he could–

“Fuck this s-shit.” Rick’s voice comes like a punch to his gut and he jerks to look at him just as he’s leaving his chair. A glimpse of down-turned lips before Rick turns away.

“Rick!”

His retreating back rushes down the corridor. Morty falls out of his chair and it crashes on the ground. His legs twist in their haste to stand up. “Rick, wait!”

The bang of the workshop’s door resonates in their small apartment.

Time skips and he’s in the workshop, green blinding him. The portal closes before he can take a single step forward.

The walls are closing in on him and he rubs at his face harshly. Something prickles at his eyes and he distantly feels himself lean against the wall.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” He clutches at his hair and slides down the wall, curling into a small ball with the cold metal against his back.

 


	4. Back and Forth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monday's here and so am I! I'm actually so happy to be able to stick to my schedule. I'm not a very punctual person so this is like my personal little achievement. Anyways, here's the second to last chapter. There will be an epilogue after this but that's pretty much it, folks! I hope you enjoy and comments (and criticism) is always welcomed with open arms.

His eyes feel rubbed raw and the tears have finally all dried up. He couldn’t shed a drop of liquid if his life depended on it. His insides feel all empty, as if someone straight up inhaled his intestines as spaghetti. Could there be an alien somewhere in the vast emptiness that had such an ability? Rick would know… The thought trails off and he can’t clasp into it again. What does it matter anyways.

He climbs to his wobbly legs and exists the well-lit room. As he passes down the hall – and it seems that’s all he has been doing this day, walking back and forth, back and forth with no real progress – he notes it’s strangely silent and empty. He doesn’t bother to turn on the lights as he crawls to his room. Mom and Dad and Summer could be enclosed in the guest room or left altogether for all he cares.

He crawls into bed and curls up into a ball again. The sheets feel as cold as the metal had against his back.

Rick’s down-turned lips flash against his eyes and he feels a deep throb at his heart. Were they as grim and deep as he remembers? He hadn’t been able to see his eyes and he’s both grateful and regretful. He wants to know what was reflected in them as Rick left the kitchen but his heart couldn’t take it if they were as hard as the frown in his memories.

He blinks slowly and his mind feels creepily empty. He doesn’t know how much time passes between his slow blinks, seconds or hours, but he doesn’t feel like sleeping either.

When he opens them again he sees a dark shadow in the room and he almost lets them slip closed again before the view penetrates his skull. His heart finally gives a heavy beat as he lurches upright.

“Rick!” His voice cracks and he clears his throat. The shadow resumes what it was doing. Morty makes out the form of a huge bag and his body jumps out of bed without his permission.

“R-Rick, wh-what are y-you doing?”

Silence and then… “Wh-what do – bleugh – think I’m d-doing, dipshit Morty-shit?”

“You’re, umm, g-geez, packing up?”

“Brilliant ob-observation – uck – skills as a-always, Morty.”

He’s almost afraid too afraid to ask. “Why… why are you, umm, you… packing up?”

“I’m leaving.”

Rick shoves past him and moves outside. Morty like a tied strip of rope jerks after him.

“You can’t!”

“Who the f-fuck says I – bleaugh – I can’t?”

“I do!” He grabs at his arm but Rick yanks it out of his grip.

“I will fucking do whatever the fucking shit I-I want, Morty!” Rick’s eyes are blazing and Morty feels like he crashes against an invisible wall. His own blood pumps through his veins like fire and he grabs at Rick’s shirt again. He hears it rip.

“You won’t go fuck-nowhere!”

He can see his family file out of the guest room.

“Fuck off, Morty, I will fuck-fucking deck you, shit-bastard.”

“You f-fuck off and listen to me!”

“Dad?” Beth says but Morty couldn’t care less about them now.

“No, no, Morty, you don’t get-get to order your grandpa around like that. Go back to–“

“Fucking listen!”

“–back to–“

He tugs at Rick with all his strength and almost makes them both fall. He grabs at Rick’s face and seals bruising lips against lips.

He forcefully shoves his tongue in Rick’s mouth, tasting the bitter aftertaste of alcohol, and the heavy stench of cheap booze reaches his nose. Teeth bite down, hard, and hands push him away. A distinct taste of copper fills his mouth and his hands grab at the shirt again.

“Morty!” Dad cries out, shock coloring his voice.

Dad’s voice makes him stumble away and he can feel hot-red coloring his cheeks. He can’t look at him so he gazes at Rick instead. His lips are down-turned into a deep ridge and he rubs at his forehead before letting the hand fall by his side. The bag he was holding is lying on the ground besides him.

“Morty, what are you doing?” Beth enters his field of vision and he’s forced to look at her. Her face is hard and eyes harsh.

He can feel shame eating at him from inside out and he can’t decide what to do. He twists his hands and feels cold sweat coating them.

“You...” Beth trails off and her face twists into a grimace. “This isn’t right.”

“It’s not… You… You...” he stutters and his thoughts are all twisted together, tangled beyond hope.

“Let’s just all come back home and forget this… this little...” she trails off.

Rick grabs his bag. “Look, Morty, go home with Mom and Jerry, and I’ll… I’ll c-come back later.”

 _He won’t._ This he can feel deep inside his gut, with utter conviction. If he lets go of Rick here and now, he won’t see him again. It’s like the law of the universe. Inevitable, irreversible. He wants to clutch at him, take the portal gun and just pull them both somewhere far far away, without anyone other than the two of them. The need for an old-fashioned adventures rises inside of him and he feels parched for their old times. Just hours ago he imagined all the things he could have with his family, just like before, but it doesn’t measure up to Rick, to them.

He knows, he _knows this_ , so why won’t his voice work? The walls of his home are crumbling all around him as he stands frozen in place.

Beth touches Rick’s arm. “Why won’t you come with us, Dad? It will be just like before all,” she waves her hand at him, “this.”

“Morty, we missed you, buddy!” Jerry says and he should feel touched but he can’t rip his eyes away from Rick and he can’t understand the slightly pale face and the blank eyes. His heart painfully beats against his rib cage and he grabs at his shirt, where his heart should be.

“Morty...” Summer touches his twisted hand. Her eyes reflect a complex myriad of emotions and he’s sucked in. “Whatever… whatever you do, do what will make you happy.”

“Take your clothes, Morty, and–“

“No.” He says and silence falls. He sees in slow motion as Beth’s throat moves, as her lips open on the beginning of a word.

“No.” His voice sounds alien to his own ears. “I won’t.”

His heart beats even impossibly faster and blood rushes through his whole body with a vengeance. His hands are trembling, his body quivering, and how dare they?

“How dare y-you come-come to my home and-and do th-this!” He waves his hands around, encompassing the whole apartment. “I won’t pack up. I won’t let Rick leave. I won’t come back so we can pretend again that nothing’s happening when you all go to sleep, I don’t want to wait for adventures on galaxies away so you don’t see me holding Rick’s hand. I don’t want to fight and fight and fight and feel ashamed of myself for doing it.”

“You can’t –“

“I want you here, Rick. I want you to stay with me, I want to go to adventures just like always, I want you to make fun of me and I want to make fun of you. I want to wake up next to you and I want to shock that old couple living next door by kissing you again. I want to stay in hotels and see the faces of the workers as you ask for a single bed. I want to live with you and, and...”

Rick pulls him forward and he stumbles to his chest. Tears sting his eyes. “I don’t… I don’t… I-I...”

“Shh...” Rick’s hand rubs at his back, warmth traveling back and forth.

He can’t see anything from where he’s squashed, but Rick’s voice is cold and razor sharp. “You should leave, Beth, Jerry.”

“Dad… don’t you want to live with us all like before?”

“You heard Morty. Out.”

He’s unbearably grateful for Rick’s no-nonsense attitude and almost crumbles when Beth just sighs and footsteps move away from them. Hands continue to rub at his back.

“Go lay down in the bedroom. I’ll take care of this.”

His tenses against Rick but forces his muscles to relax. He nods, not even sure if Rick can feel the gesture, but he doesn’t want to talk. He takes a few deep but stuttering breaths and takes a step back. He doesn’t want to lift his head either, but the sound of Rick’s breathing is soothing so he tries to match it. He’s not very successful, but when Rick rubs at his forearms again, he turns and trudges down to the bedroom.

The room is almost pitch-black now and he finds the bed just by muscle-memory. He lies down in a mimicry of his previous position. Despite the utter exhaustion weighting him down he can’t help but strain his ears towards the hall.

Rick’s deep voice is soothing and he can’t make out what he’s saying but the various voices are picking up in volume.

“You can’t continue in this.. in this freak relationship!”

“And who says I can’t? You?” an indistinguishable sound follows and Morty imagines Rick snorting. The image in his mind is so vivid, thousands upon thousands of memories of Rick’s little mannerisms building up, that he can almost feel himself looking at Rick from the shadows.

The voices trail off again but he can hear Summer enter the conversation. He doesn’t know what she’s saying but… but that time she said _be happy…_ he feels she was on his side. After all the things she saw, he hopes she understands them. Her eyes flash before him and she might. She might have seen through him before he himself did. Even before he uttered his first confession to Rick in his garage, red as a tomato, she might have known. Wasn’t it her that first planted the idea of moving out when she found him crying in the bathroom?

A few minutes pass and all falls silent. They must’ve left.

After a few more beats a patch of light illuminates the wall in front of him before the door is once again closed and footsteps approach the bed. Rick lies down and Morty turns to face him. Dark shadows in the shape of hands reach out for him and he shuffles to plaster himself to Rick’s front.

“I gotta say, Morty, you’re one kinky bastard. Never thought exhibitionism was your thing.”

A wet chuckle passes his lips and he snorts. Hands wrap around him. “Sh-shut, shut up, Rick, god...”

“What?” he hears a lightness in Rick’s voice, “Vanilla has never been m-my scene, you know.”

“God, you’re disgusting, Rick.” The body touching him vibrates as Rick muffles his laughter in his hair.

“Takes one shit to know another one.”

His heart finally slows enough for him to take breaths without feeling like bursting or screaming or crying, but it still aches. It’s a similar ache to one he had when he left home. But… His exhale is fluttery. But sometime he can’t have the cake and eat it too. If he had to choose between his family and Rick, his choice was always going to be the same and… And he’s fine with that. As he’s breathing in the same smell of Rick with a good deal of stench attached to it, he does feel fine with his decision. He would rather lay here with Rick and go on death-defying adventures than watch the same scene of Jerry lurking around and Beth drinking her problems away. His home is here now and he wouldn’t exchange it for anything else.

He closes his eyes. Rick presses into him with every inhale and their clothes are annoyingly in the way, but the bed finally feels warm.

“I think I’m going to puke.” Rick scrambles out of bed and into the bathroom.

Morty tries to hide his rising chuckle in the sheets. “That’s what you get for drinking god knows what in shitty bars!”

“Fuck off!”

Morty laughs and hopes Rick can hear him in the bathroom. Serves him right.


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it, folks! Hope you enjoyed the journey so far. It's not a long fic by any means but it is a first multi-chaptered one that I have finally managed to finish, so that's something. Comments are always welcomed and if you see any typos or other glaring (or not so much) mistakes, please do say. Critique is welcomed as well!

It’s warm… Tingles travel up his body, licking up his thighs, his stomach, then continuing on to his chest before dissolving and starting up again in a never ending wave. Should he open his eyes? But the sheets feel warm against his body and he’s much too cozy to move, so he just sighs and melts on the bed. Just five more minutes. Warmth again, near his groin, and something slick moves and… wait…

Morty blinks open, warm but annoying light blinds him and he squints. The room is by now well-lit and something moves between his legs.

“Rick!” his voice comes out squeaky and he clears his throat.

The bulge under the sheets moves. “Good morning, Morty,” warm breath tickles his dick and a shudder passes through him.

“Wh-what are you d-doing, Rick?”

His question is met with silence until Rick’s mouth engulfs his erection, a fat tongue drags against the shaft and a moan is forced out of his throat.

“Rick...” the name is drawn out of his mouth and he imagines he can feel Rick’s smirk against his throbbing erection.

The waves build up, concentrating in his abdomen, and every lick, every downward stroke of Rick’s mouth pushes him closer and closer to the edge. Rick lifts up and his mouth sucks at his head and it’s exquisite. Fire travels up his spine and Rick moves down before he can recover. His tongue swirls around the head again and he shivers. Pressure starts building up in his stomach.

“Rick...” he moans and his hands fly to clutch at Rick’s head, but the sheets meet his palms and he grabs at the cloth.

A few more moments, a few more licks and swirls and movements of Rick’s mouth and the pressure reaches its highest point. Pleasure explodes and radiates outwards, lasting a few seconds, but, god, are those seconds the best he had ever felt.

He slumps and the sheets rustle until Rick’s head emerges next to him. Morty lies there, eyes closed, trying to catch his breath.

“I thought it was pretty evident what I was doing, Morty.”

Morty rolls his eyes without opening them but Rick still snorts next to him.

“It-it’s at least a nice way to wake up,” Morty says.

“Ungrateful brat.” Rick’s voice is light and Morty smiles. He feels content and relaxed and his grandpa’s voice betrays his own mood and, overall, Morty could stay in bed for the whole day. His stomach grumbles. Maybe not then.

“Rick...” he whispers, “don’t you want something in return?”

Despite the orgasm he just had, he can feel light arousal coming back and he knows he could go for another round. But Rick only grunts and mumbles something that might have been a ‘later’. Rick’s face is mushed into the pillow, but what he can see seems relaxed and smooth, despite the various ridges and wrinkles present when he’s awake and Morty doesn’t feel like waking him up. Rick has never been an early bird after all. So he moves the sheets away from himself, careful to keep Rick covered, and rolls out of bed.

His unsteady bare feet meet the cold floor and he cringes. He’s completely naked and Rick must’ve undressed him when he came back from his little trip to the bathroom. Warmth floods his heart and he can’t help but smile. He finds his pajamas. Might as well start breakfast.

He exits the bedroom and quietly shuffle down to the kitchen. What do they have left in the fridge? If he remembers correctly, there might be some leftovers from yesterday. Or should he do pancakes?

Summer sits near the table, a mug of coffee in her hands, and he stumbles to a stop.

“Hey,” she greets him.

Morty can feel redness creeping up chest, his cheeks, and he feels exposed in his worn pajama pants.

“H-hey,” his voice stutters and Summer looks away. A slight blush colors her cheeks and Morty feels beyond tempted to run back into the bedroom. He walks up to the counters and opens up cupboards mindlessly. “You, umm, didn’t leave?”

“Nah, Rick said I could stay if I wanted to and, well, here I am.”

“Oh...” He trails off. “You want some pancakes then?”

“Sure.”

He closes the cupboard, which contains nothing that he needs, and gathers the products he does. He works in silence except for the mixer but he can practically hear Summer’s presence behind him.

“Coffee?” he asks.

“Oh, nah, I already had two cups while you, umm, slept.”

Heat returns to his cheeks and he stares into the dough.

“It’s...” Summer trails off and Morty gets out the pan. He was beginning to think she decided against saying anything but after a few seconds she picks up her sentence again. “It’s alright, you know?”

“What is?” The sizzle of cooking fills the kitchen.

“You and Rick,” her voice sounds weird and Morty does not want to talk about it, especially after… after yesterday.

“I know,” he continues anyways.

“I mean it.” The scrape of a chair and Summer comes to stand next to him. She leans against the counter, both hands clutching the top. “I’m happy for you both.”

“Are you not, you know, disgusted?” A lump settles in his stomach, but he can’t not ask.

“I’m not.” Summer doesn’t look at him, her gaze somewhere on the wall, but she doesn’t look disgusted, just flustered, and Morty relaxes a bit. “You both were such idiots at the start.”

Morty snorts and he couldn’t agree more but he doesn’t say anything.

“In this vast empty universe what you both have… it couldn’t be better. By now, Morty, you couldn’t be normal again and Rick never was and that’s fine. Who are we to say what is okay and what’s not with out planetary mindsets?” Humor colors her voice. “Beth and Jerry might not understand or they could have their own reasons, but they’ll come around.”

“Will they?” His voice sounds hard.

“Well...”

“I’m fine if they don’t. I-I wouldn’t give up what I have with… with Rick anyways.”

“I know and you shouldn’t. But… But I still missed you, both of you, and I’m sure Dad and Mom did too. So, it would be nice to meet up again.”

“Maybe.” Morty doubts it. He places the first done pancake on a plate.

Suddenly, an alarm blares out and Morty jumps a bit. “Shit, the Hrakhlens are calling!” He turns off the heat and removes the pan from the stove.

“What?” Summer asks, her gaze flickering from him to the direction of where the alarm is ringing. The door of their bedroom bangs open and a disheveled Rick stumbles out.

“The Hrakhlens, Summer! Rick owns them, like, a billion zruckels! Shit, shit, shit.”

“Morty, get your ass here, we’re leaving. Now.”

Rick stumbles to the workshop and Morty jogs after him. “Just leave the doors unlocked, Summer, the house has its own security system anyways.”

Morty leaves Summer in the kitchen and joins Rick in the workshop. He grabs his jeans and a shirt from a box he leaves just for these kind of situations and hops on one leg as he rushes to get dressed.

He can see Rick grabbing various tools and weapons scattered all over and tosses him a plasma gun, which he almost drops as he fumbles with it. Rick grabs his portal gun and after a second the room is illuminated in green.

“No time to be wasting, Morty, c’mon!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Rick grabs his hand and pulls him through the portal.

It closes up and the apartment is left in silence again.


End file.
